


Perfection

by Bluerose161



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Blow Jobs, Body Image, Body Worship, Drinking, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Female Draco Malfoy, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter is a Good Boyfriend, Harry Potter is a Little Shit, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Drug Use, Party, Party Crashing, Porn, Porn With Plot, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, References to Depression, Slytherin Harry Potter, Smoking, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-01-29 07:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21406708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluerose161/pseuds/Bluerose161
Summary: Stand straight, slouching is improper.Don't smile, it can cause wrinkles.Never rest your elbows on the table.Don't do anything at all that can ruin you.Don't give people rumors about you unless they benefit.That can ruin your family's name.Be perfection.Fall in love?Impossible. You are built for the benefit, not for attachment.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 13
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Landscapes of Waiting](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18522886) by [Ladderofyears](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears), [PollyWeasley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PollyWeasley/pseuds/PollyWeasley). 
  * Inspired by [Ask Me Again in Twenty Years](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4576104) by [crazyparakiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyparakiss/pseuds/crazyparakiss). 

> Hey guys, I hope you enjoy this story. I got majorly inspired to do something like this through beautiful work. I love it so much so please check it out. I will probably make this a mini-series because I love the concept. Let me just say,  
I love CrazyParakiss' female Draco works, that's the inspiration to me for making Draco a woman in this.  
I'm also obsessed with PollyWeasley's works, just the tooth-rotting fluff and Draco and Harry's dynamic in their works makes me squeal from how cute it is. Feel free to read the stories that inspired me originally, and please support them because they whole-heartedly desire it. 
> 
> By the way, Astoria is a guy, for the sake of plot stuff, and will be referred to as Aster.

The corset around her waist is tightening like a vice, strangling and harsh around her delicate skin. The maid is doing it up with each loop and tugging harshly while she grips at the wood of her vanity, teeth grit to keep herself from crying out in pain at the sensation of her internal organs being pressed so tightly together underneath her skin. Even with her already small waist being sinched out of reality, the other maids within the room were still assessing if it was small enough, even bringing out a tape measure to make sure that it was as small as Lucius Malfoy wanted it to be. Even if conventionally her waist was small enough to make a pass on these events, her mother would talk that it would keep the young heiress from eating too much during the event and gaining a small stomach, which would not appease the two. 

An oversized petticoat was wrapped just underneath the firmly done corset. It was layered, to make the skirt she would be wearing for her father's event at the estate seem much more full, a thick white ribbon to be fastened around after. The maids fluffed it at several different angles, making sure it looked good from every possible angle to see if they would need another bloody layer of them. She could tell they were satisfied, as they made her sit down to wrap the tights around her legs, before allowing her to stand and let them pull the thin sheen of the fabric of her legs. Small diamond patterns were sewn in, with shiny rhinestones that could be enough to feed an army for a month, to go at each of the vertexes. 

Next, was her make up. The maids insisted that she cannot get the dress on till after her they have done up her makeup and hair, to ensure they don't get any of the dust of product onto the clothing and ultimately ruin the expensive garbs. So, now she sat once more, eyes closed as several different hands worked on her face, applying several different things. Many were adding the very specific serums for her sensitive skin, to ensure it would not redden or break out in acne once she was freed from the party. Then, came foundation, concealer, new blush since the lower layers covered the natural one that remained on her defined cheekbones. Eyeshadows were layered and used, highly pigmented so they wouldn't need to overbear her face, and her eyes would not become the center of attention, that was for her actual dress to sweep the crowd with. 

But, they weren't even at the gown yet, since now it came to her hair, which was a long sheet of platinum that fell past her shoulders and to the center of her back. The group seemed to bicker endlessly, each of them casting glances at the outfit that still was resting on her bed while arguing which one would look the best. With a great annoyance, she finally spoke "I think a waterfall braid would look lovely, ladies." they were quick to agree, with simple praises of _that sounds fantastic m' lady_ and_ excellent decision_ before finally getting to it. Two of them worked at different places to get the intricate design done sooner, using bobby pins rather than clunky hair ties to not make it seem amateur. There was no rush however, Lucius preferred his heiress to come in a little later than normal, to be "fashionably late". It gave the aged Malfoy the time to address the crowds, make light banter and comments to enjoy and keep up his impeccable reputation. 

Finally, she was able to stand and step into the pooled dress on the ground, the maids working carefully around the petticoat as they tugged it up and around her corset and bra, allowing the young Malfoy to slip her hands into the sheer lace white sleeves of the green dress. They added some final touches before fitting her small feet into skinny heels that any normal person would snap their neck in. Fortunately, the young heiress learned how to walk in them even before primary school. 

There is a shallow knock at the door before being abruptly opened, and when she looks over she's able to see her beautiful mother. She is aged, yet refined and poised, years hardly ebbing at her beauty. Her hair is gaining grey's at the sides of her head, but it seems to only add to her look as it rests in a neat beehive, a formfitting black dress with a slit down her right thigh is what she sports for the event, along with green accents in a handbag, shoes, and makeup. She's smiling at her daughter, walking in and examining the young Malfoy.

"You look, perfect darling," even with those words, she watches her mother push back small loose strands of hair the maids missed, and she knows it's _not_ perfect. Her mother takes her hand, still beaming like she is what she said, but she can see that there is something to be said, that is held in her throat "Come along, your father's speech is wrapping up." she nodded silently, going down the vastly long hallways of the estate her parents owned. As the two women edged closer and closer to the entrance to the ballroom, she felt small bits of dread starting to bite at her throat, causing a lump to start forming. 

She always got like this while walking down the hall, the need to go back. So badly, she wanted to go back to her room, where everything that was what she loved and familiar was there- like her bath, where she spent hours just resting in warm water and candles to soothe her with sweet music playing on a speaker. She could lay in her bed, watching old romance movies that she wished she could be having right then and there. Or just texting her friends, since they were not attending tonight's event. Pansy was in Paris for the week, Goyle was in New York, Crabb is in Cancun, and Blaise was off in Hawaii. All of the young Malfoy's friends were rich just as her family was, except they used summer breaks to spend time with their children before they would go back to Hogwarts, a boarding school in London for young minds. Her life wasn't like that, going out to fun vacations to spend time with her mother and father, being able to laugh with them, and not hold up a constant reputation and let loose. No, she had to go to a party every night, be flaunted and praised by her father's coworkers and partners in his several businesses'. 

Though it always faded once she reached the satin evergreen curtains, purposely placed for the dramatic entrances of the Malfoy family. By then, she had tied up the mask as tight as her corset around her face, to hide the dismay of having to be here. Instead, she let her mask show joy, the etiquette lessons she took at young with her tutor, Severus Snape, and a much more pleasing demeanor. She had to look pleased to be a Malfoy, proud of the name, even with all the skeletons in the closet no one got to see but her. 

"And now, I invite my beautiful family to join us in the festivities. My wife, Narcissa Malfoy, and my daughter, Draco Malfoy." There was no more thinking to do, no more checking on her mask or having the need to be free, she had to go at the task at hand. It was ingrained into her mind and body how to walk down the stairs, hold her mother's arm with her right and with the left to the banister, hold it to keep total balance and dramatic effect, let people gasp, simply flash a knowing smile. She was taught the simple things of doing this, how her smile was meant to look, how her feet moved, lead with the left to make sure you can use the support beam, move in sync with the person beside you, do not cast them a glance. It was all the minuscule things that she had to be corrected so many times over that she had learned. 

When she got down to the last step, she was separated from her mother and stepped to her father's left, while Narissa was at the right. She watched her father drape an arm over his wife and how she smiled, for the crowd alone was it genuine, not for Lucius. The twos love had fallen apart for each other a decade ago, when Lucius began to go into infidelities with other women, much lacking social class as another ploy of power for the megalomaniac sire. The only reason Narissa ever stayed was for Draco since she knew the man had enough money and power to buy her daughter from the court even if he was an unfit parent, he had all the connections to do so afterall. She knew of Lucius' traditionalist wants for the girl, since she was born a young woman rather than a man. If she were to leave, Lucius would most likely sell their daughter to hopefully produce a male heir, rather than the woman he was stuck with to run his companies because of course, he was a sexist pigheaded tyrant too. 

The clapping around the place steadied to allow the head of the manor to finish off with "Now dance, have a drink or anything from the buffet, enjoy the event." and with that, people were spreading out to do just that. Narissa went ahead of the daughter and father as told to start welcoming guests and possibly gossiping with the other housewives sprawled about, being loud and presumptuous as ever. Lucius leaned over to his daughter, whispering "If you dare ruin this party, it will be your head. I don't need another sullied event from your belligerent boy toy." 

With bile rising in her throat and a squeeze to her skirt, she gave a firm nod to Lucius "Of course father," and it was that, the set rule for tonight's events. Though, she doesn't even know why her father is mentioning him, considering she hasn't seen him since boarding school ended for the summer since she can never leave the house and he's banned from the manor. 

* * *

After walking with her mother and father, greeting guests' faces that she can no longer remember other than they were adorned with riches alike, she was allowed to sit at the family table. Soft music from an orchestra only aways from her filled the vast room, polished chandeliers glimmering down upon everyone and existing thing. She could see her father chatting to other old men, each holding a different drink of refined liquor while most likely talking business or sleazy secretaries. Her mother is dancing, moving so freely and with life even with the tight dress she has on, having such a big smile as she moves about the floor. Narissa always looks home while dancing, so happy and light, like she can do everything even with the refined and poised movement of the waltz. She is a sprite-like that, and Draco can assume it's her mother's freedom from her father. Returning to something so simple could be the most therapeutic when dealing with him, it could be her key to the cage before she's ruthlessly shoved back in with several new locks to the metal door. 

"Hello Draco," she finds her attention drifting away from her mother, looking up to see an actual loving couple, Severus Snape and Lily Evans. The two look happy together, standing hand at hand whilst smiling. Her tutor looks much more vibrant than he did a few years ago, all disheveled and in ruins when his sweet Lily was in sorrow from her divorce with Harry Potters's father, James. Now that the two are together, now married and Lily supposedly expecting, her tutor has become a beacon of friendliness, hair neatly styled rather than matted and draping, a small smile on his face rather than a scornful scowl. Lily is still as exquisite as ever, like age has yet to strip her of youth, red hair falling seamlessly down her shoulders in sweet, messy tresses, and bright emerald eyes that remind her so much of Harry.

Draco offers a smile to the couple, standing up to appropriately address them "Greetings Lily, Snape, how do you do?" Lily giggles, stepping closer "Oh please Draco, there is no need to be all pompous when you're seeing my son, give me a hug." she's met in the warm arms of the woman, and Draco can't help but smile and return the gesture. Lily and Snape are like her second family, sweet and sincere. She wishes she grew up with the same love they give each other and Harry, he's beyond lucky to have them. She wishes her parents would for once smile at each other, actually say they love her, rather than pointing out any external flaw to her they could. Lily and Snape have zero cares of appearance or gender, and it always feels like a breath of fresh air when the weight of being a Malfoy is lifted when she can be herself a bit more. 

When the two ladies pull apart Lily returns to Snape's side, and Draco is still smiling "My family still doesn't know about that yet, they still think he's my boy toy." Snape manages a chuckle and rolls his eyes "Him a toy? I think he'd run someone over with his motorcycle before that would ever happen." she can't help but join Snape on the light laughter because it's bloody true. Harry is what her parents call a menace to society, a football quarterback with not many plans for his future except what he wants to do. He's passionate, but an extreme rebel, who will normally team up with Fred and George on getting joke items to mess with people, especially on fellow students back in their boarding school, Hogwarts. He is anything but a follower but born and raised a leader who takes zero shit. 

"Very true. Speaking of the devil, how is he?" Draco can't help but worry a bit about her boyfriend, she hasn't seen him all this summer, and texting has been rare between the two thanks to her father. He monitors everything in the home, and it's hard to check her phone or even get to look at the messages before he's rampaging and taking her phone away to tell Potter himself to piss off. Of course, Harry's favorite past time is to be rude to her father, so it never resolves much other than getting Draco a new phone because Lucius broke the other in rage. Lily sighs "Well, he's being Harry, loud and obnoxious. He doesn't stop talking about you, and he's been training most of the summer with the captain, Marcus Flint, to make sure he's at the top of his game." she nods along to what she considered mother-in-law says about him. 

Snape then adds on "He almost broke something when he heard he isn't allowed to come to tonight's party, saying how much he wanted to see you. He even called your father to curse him out for not letting him go and see you," Draco feels her face paling a bit, staring at Snape like some lune _No wonder father mentioned him_ the platinum blonde shook her head "Of course he did, he can just never take no for an answer," "Of course not, I mean, how would he have ended up with you if he ever did?" Lily snorts and hits Snape's chest playfully "Oh hush honey, that's not nice," it's once again, a true statement. Potter had a fixation with Draco from the beginning, and at first, was a total pest. Over time, the two started to get along, arguments turned into joyful and light banter, and soon enough the heiress Draco Malfoy was dating the quarterback Harry Potter.

With a few more moments of pleasant conversation, the happy couple leaves, and Draco resumes sitting. That doesn't last long, as her mother is soon making her way over "Draco, it isn't ladylike to be rotting in the corner of the party, go have a dance." she knows it's not what her mother wants for Draco, she can see it in her eyes. She has learned what expressions her mother makes when she's doing it in the best interest of her, they are sweet, built with loving concern and even a pat on the back. This is what her father wants, and is using her beloved mother as a pawn to get Draco to listen since her mother is her weakness. It hurts a little, to know that the person she admires the most is weak and used by the person she is meant to respect, but rather fears. She doesn't want her to get in trouble, so she stands and nods "Of course mother." and walks off. She already knows who her father is wanting her to dance with anyway, he has been expressing the opinion for the whole summer since her return and when it was outed of Draco and Harry's relationship. 

Aster Greengrass, a respectable young man. He is a charmer to many, sweet and sincere, part of the Greengrass inheritance from his grandmother, living with two functioning parents, a housewife and a working father. He's got status, money, and the supposed blood that Lucius wants for his daughter. The man has been religiously talking about Aster, how good he would be with Draco, how they would be the perfect couple, that he could take care of her, and had plans for his career rather than some shabby football player. He has forcibly broken Harry and herself up twice, demanding the boy never see or speak to his daughter ever again, because he cannot dare imagine what happens when she finishes school, how he will supposedly 'Drag her down'. Harry has rebutted both times, and through great stress on the old man, they have stayed together. Though Lucius is insistent, and Draco finds herself feeding into the whims of her father at times she wishes she didn't have to, so her mother doesn't need to take the hit for her. 

He is a gentleman, agreeing to dance and leading her by the hand rather than hip like many would. He has brown hair, that is neatly styled to not get in his face with some product and soft blue eyes. Once they get to the center of the floor, many making ways for the heiress and her partner, they begin. It's just as Draco remembers from the last time she had to do this, boring. Yes, the boy is a total sweetheart with a charm that many women would kill to have in their partner, but, he's nothing like Harry. This is lackluster, movements that have been ingrained within both their minds since young with nothing special, nothing to make her feel alive. With Potter, it's unpredictable and lively, and she finds herself going through the motions of life rather than the following repetition. His hands are as soft as hers, fragile and porcelain from years of sheltering while Harry's are calloused and big from the work he does with them, the sports, everything she admired since he did do some work, even with his father being the chief of police. 

"How is Harry?" Aster asks, spinning Draco into his arms before back out. She gulps, looking around "He's fine so I've heard," the boy doesn't even look offended, but they aren't saying anything else to each other. Aster was around to know she was taken, he was also a Slytherin afterall, just like Draco and Harry. Hogwarts was a very exclusive boarding school, being massive and only allowing the gifted. They had separate houses, wanting students who had similar interests to be able to get to know each other and grow relationships. Harry ended up being a Slytherin, but surprisingly he got along with everyone. His best friends were Ron and Hermoine, one from Gryffindor and the other a Ravenclaw. He was like the leader of the Gyfindors, even with being from another house. All the Weasley's flock to his messy mop of hair, and he practically rules it as a king even if he comes from a different house. Harry has even told Draco that she's technically the queen of Gyffindors if he's truly the king. It's how he ruined the Slytherin name, associating with others outside the house, being rampant and loud git while others were more focused on themselves and studies. Ambition and cunning they were, but with Harry around, they gained the stereotype of assholes, which is why Lucius insists Harry has ruined it all. 

Soon enough, they part from the awkward tension, and Draco finds herself returning to her seat, this time with a Shirley temple in a hand. She lets music once again calm her until another thing is grabbing her attention. It's luckily not her parents, but rather her phone going off in her dress pocket. Hesitantly, after making sure Lucius was still distracted, she lips the cell out and opens her messaging, being glad her father isn't near his tablet to see the notifications that Draco is on her phone. 

**Harry:** _Hey_

_Hey_

_Hey _

_Heeyyy _

_Baby, why aren't you answering me? _

_I wanted to see you so bad today, I got you something and everything. _

_Then your bitchass sperm donor said no _

_So, I'm here anyway_

_You dressed nice today, cute green and all that _

Draco is beyond confused, like how the hell her idiot of a boyfriend got inside the manor. She looks around at all the moving guests, but can't seem to spot a mop of black hair, tan skin, or even circular glasses to a hint of his presence. Her phone vibrates again and she looks back down at it to see another message. 

**Harry:** _Look out the window to your left_

When she looks over at the window, she did not expect to see bright evergreen eyes and a lopsided grin, it makes her think that her Shirley temple has some liquor in it and she's hallucinating. Standing up, she hurriedly makes her way over to the window, unlocking it and opening it up, feeling the cold night air hit her face as she comes face to face with her forbidden lover. He's still grinning devilishly "Hey," is all he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Though, Draco is more lost than ever "How are you on the window?" he's holding onto a rope, and he simply points up. She leans forward to get a view up and can see the rope is firmly tied onto one of the gargoyles around the old Victorian style home. When she's standing straight again and facing him, she's crossing her arms "You know that's dangerous, you could fall, and this is the bloody second story, Potter." rather than argue, he's sighing dreamily and giving her a lovestruck look "God, I missed your nagging so much, you know that Princess. Anyways, let's get out of here before your dear old dad hangs me from this rope." 

She finds herself rolling her eyes, and scoffing "Dear, I love and miss you and all that cute stuff, but there is no way I am going down that rope, my father will surely take notice soon I'm not dancing with someone and spot you. So, how pray tell, do you plan to get me out of here?" His grin could rival the Chesire at this point, and his legs are soon firmly on the wall, and he's leaning back, one of his hands letting go of the rope to press against his lips and let out an ear-piercing whistle. And she recognizes that whistle anywhere, it's his signature for calling the Weasley's to attack. 

A sudden clatter from a window being roughly shoved open is ringing in the air, and when Draco turns around, there are Fred, George, and Ron, all of them holding assortments of small smoke bombs from Fourth of July and lighting them in rapid succession. People are screaming, and Draco can hear her father's booming scream of **"POOOOTTER!!"** rips through the air as they go off, murky colors from the fog starting to erupt out. The three don't stop the hail of smoke bombs until it's coating the room in a thick fog, and she loses sight of all the people at the party. Harry is soon grabbing her waist with one hand, pulling his delicate, short lover into his arms before starting to slide down the rope like bloody Tarzan, letting out a howl of laughter as he goes down, Draco holding onto him tightly to not fall as they go down. 

Once her lover's feet hit the properly trimmed grass, she's finally set down, sighing in relief before smacking the back of his head like Snape would at times "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!" he lets out a laugh, taking off his signature letter jacket, which is green with grey sleeves, his last name embroidered on the back with his number, and the Slytherin symbol on the right breast over her body to protect her from the chill of night "Awe c'mon, you know it was fun," she cannot deny him at this point, when she hasn't seen him in so long that it's felt like a millennial, and they're soon kissing. It's all passionate, sweet loving that makes Draco's body feel all warm and tingly in some sense of strange deja vu. 

His hands, calloused and rough as she remembered, are gently rubbing across her hips, thumbs feeling the bulk of the corset she has around her waist as a satisfied hum erupts from the back of his throat, which makes her want to keen in delight from such a memorable sound. The two only pull apart when she can hear some of the security around the manor go off, one yelling out "His bike is still here! He hasn't left yet! Find him and the heir or Lucius will have our heads." her face pales, and she's quickly taking Harry's hand and starting to hurriedly pull him along, knowing the grounds like the back of her hand as she trecks through the grass, doing her best not to apply pressure on the balls of her feet so the heels don't dig into the grass. 

"You know, you become exceptionally sexy when you take charge," she decides not to retort on his comment. Classic Potter, keeping things light and nonchalant even though her house is equipt with guard dogs that have memorized his smell to kill him on sight. After some hurriedly walking, she can see some flashlights that are beaming from just around the corner and quickly crams her bulky boyfriend into space, squishing in with him and watching as the figures of security go past them in a flash. She only breathes when she hears the pounding of footsteps on the cobble is gone, and when she looks up she can see her boyfriend giving her an adoring look "That was cheeky, Draco. Have you been picking up on my style?" she scoffs at him, getting herself out space and tugging him free "Nonesense if I was you then I would've used a smoke bomb. I see you picked up on your father's old tricks, using fog as your little invisibility cloak." 

Harry has a small blush on his face from that, a clear spark of glee in his eyes from the mention of his father. The teen looks up to his father more than ever, James is his icon. Even if he stays with his mother and step-father quite a bit thanks to his father's busy schedule, she knows that Harry is always beyond excited for some time with him. They normally go to gun ranges or fish, where Harry lets his father talk for hours on end about anything he can get him to explain to just enjoy his voice. He takes Draco by her waist, pulling her flush into him and adjusting the letter jacket he'd draped on her moments ago "What can I say, he's a genius. Now, let's get out of here," 

Managing to slip past security, they finally get to the motorcycles, where the Weasleys are still waiting for him "Harry! Finally, you come along mate, I thought you got caught." Ron is talking, still sitting on his bike with Hermoine sitting behind him, looking at her calculator "He had a sixty percent chance of getting caught, and with each passing minute it has increased by three percent." Hermoine is the brains of many of the Weasley-Potter schemes. She is always doing math and calculations, figuring out possibilities if they can do something with her sharp, Ravenclaw mind. She doesn't ever join in the actual dirty work, just runs the numbers and instructs. She has rich dark skin and poofy dark hair, that like Harry's cannot be contained or styled properly. Her eyes are a chocolate brown, and she's always sincere and in the concern of the others. Draco finds herself appreciating her presence and maternal like care, even if her father cannot stand her guts in the slightest. Aside from sexism, her father was also quite a racist behind closed doors, talking shit about Harry's mother Lily for getting with James, a tan man from Brazil with lots of spunk and the chief of the local police station. 

Fred tosses Harry two helmets "Yeah, yeah, let's get out of here. I think I can hear the dogs barking," the group laughs, and Draco puts the helmet over her once perfectly styled hair, that will surely be ruined once she takes it off. Harry takes her to his bike, watching him sit in the front as she fits her arms through the sleeves before climbing behind him, her arms slotting to his sides and hooking across his muscular stomach, where she can feel his abs under the black shirt. 

"There is he is! Get him!" but, it's already too late when the guards notice because they are revving the engines loudly, and soon they are flying across the pavement with speed and air. Draco finds herself relishing the sensation, even if her face is being pelted with the cold air that is sure to dry out her skin, and her heels are most likely covered in dirt from when she walked across the grass to find a place for her and Harry to hide. It hardly matters.

She feels alive all over again, and she can't help herself but squeeze onto Potter tighter, hiding her face into his back and relishing the smell of the cologne he wears, which she bought him for Christmas last year, while the world becomes hers all over again, and no longer her fathers.

* * *

When the group finally stopped riding, they are back at Harry's father's home, James Potters. Harry was meant to be staying there during the party, so his father can keep an eye on him to not sneak out. Though hours at the station took a toll, and soon James could no longer stay awake and passed out on the couch, and it was very easy to escape the guard when he was pulled off in the dreams where every case was a success. The raven-haired male unlocked the door with his house key and letting the group in, as George and Fred stuffed their faces with some snatched goods from the banquet tables "Man, the look on that old bastards face when we set those bombs off. He was so damn red I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel." Ron hummed, stealing one of the treacle tarts and starting to devour it "Of course, he thought Harry wouldn't make a comeback, we showed him good," she watched how Hermoine cringed from Ron talking with his mouth full, cleaning his face and kissing his cheek "Chew before you speak." instantly, the redheads face lit up an exceptionally bright red and he coughed on his tart, giving a shaky nod as he was clearly trying not to keep on coughing, eyes brewing with light tears from how the sweet hit the back of his throat uncomfortably.

Draco chuckled "Hermoine, I don't think he'll choke when he talks and eats. The Weasel will probably choke on the air itself if you be cute with him," she clips off her helmet and sets it on a small half table in the hallway and working on straightening her hair. It's always light and joking banter with Harry's mates, they normally tease each other on the regular, and it's no different when Draco does it. At first, the Weasley's were quite skeptical about Harry's new addition, they were tight-knit, having an unpenetrable reliance and trust to the other that she for years lacked. The redheads always were able to look for their fellow family members and friends for trust, gaining unbreakable bonds with whomever they crossed paths with. Ron huffed, giving Draco a half glare in response as the older twins laughed and prodded at Ron's sides, oo-ing and awing as if what Draco said was the biggest insult to the youngest son of the family. 

"Yeaaaah Ron, Dray's right. You'd probably suffocate on a glass of water on your guy's wedding day." Ron sputtered and Hermoine watched the twins with wide eyes of shock at the mention of a wedding, they had only started dating a month ago afterall. But even then, it hardly mattered to the rambunctious boys, as Harry hummed the fiercely iconic wedding theme and Fred jokefully swooned himself into Draco's arms like he were the bride, reaching over to the half table were a small vase with flowers was, holding it to his chest and leaning his head back dramatically "Ron would totally be the bride! Our little brother in a gown, Pops would burst in tears of joy as he walked down the aisle," Ron looked even more embarrassed, and normally that meant he got salty and upset, not like being the object of his brothers and friends teasing "Oi! No way I'd wear a bloody dress!" he huffed before looking off and down the hall with a pout. Hermoine gives a simple smile to her lover, in turn, grasping his hand and laying her head on his shoulder to give a silent form of comfort. Ron seemed to calm and almost melt into Hermoine, still having his cheeks puffed out as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and she let out a laugh in response. 

The banter continued, changing topics between teasing to just plain drama of what Draco had missed during her summer imprisonment. The Weasley clan was the equivalent of her annoying boyfriend multiplied, but the presence was sweet. She lacked having voices around a home, where empty halls in a castle-like manor would only have the sound of crickets chirping in pity to her loneliness. Being accepted into Harry's social life was one of the amazing things of being with him and his sociable nature, he was a magnet to the good and bad, and Draco had a damn well sensor attached to her to tell if someone was going to use Harry or try to split them apart, years of sitting in the corner of her fathers ongoing meetings had taught her the art of deceit, and how to catch it before someone took what they desired of her and hit the road. She kept an eye out for her new friends, the thought of losing any of them when she had already secured them into her care would be a fate worse than death. 

But, as voices grew louder and louder, mainly thanks to Potter and his projecting voice, soon enough the knight resting on the couch was awoken from slumber. A very tired James Potter trudged down the hall, still dressed in his police uniform, which consisted of a navy blue button-up with the hem tucked into the jeans, a tie that was now loosened and having light wrinkles in the material, his jeans were black, and shoes had been kicked off a while ago to expose white cotton socks that most likely had dark soles from built perspiration throughout the busy day. His hair was a mess, from a mix of its natural form and bedhead, and glasses resting on the tip of his nose, ready to slip off his face. He yawned, looking around "Mornin'-or Evening. Harry, Ron, Hermoine, Fred, George, Draco-" the man was initially was seemingly doing a headcount, which made Draco sure that the group came along earlier to keep Harry company during his exile from her home before their plotting began. 

James did a double-take at Draco and recounting the heads to make sure that he wasn't just imagining the new face in his entryway. He sighed, looking at his son and pushing his glasses up "Your mother is going to give me an ear full, ain't she?" Harry hummed, nonchalantly draping an arm over Draco and leaning back on the wall "Prolly, she did say she'd rip your scrotum out if I crashed this party," the adult winced, even if his build was big and strong, Harry taking after his father, and his mother being short and only reaching James' shoulder, she could fight. The girl religiously took sports during her years in Hogwarts, volleyball, swimming, track, baseball, and even football like her son. She still kept that muscle underneath sweet smiles and adorable snorts and could pummel James if she so felt like it. The man huffed, ruffling up his already tousled hair "She can stay if you wash my car tomorrow," the man was negotiating with his son, and Harry looked ready to swindle the price of having his girlfriend staying over "How about borrowing my noise-canceling headphones for tonight?" and Harry gave a not so discreet pinch to Draco's waist, making her need to hold back squeaking and flush, and when she looked up he simply winked in response. Classic Potter, even with his charm, he was a damn pervert. Even if Draco was going to stay a virgin till married since her parents would disown her if she had sex outside of marriage, that didn't mean they hadn't done some sexual things, they just were careful to not go the full home run. 

"As much as I would not like to listen to whatever you plan on doing to Lucius' daughter, I also want my car washed. So, how about I get the headphones, you wash my car, and you can skip over the polish. I'm sure I can get Sirius to get it done instead," Harry hummed, acting coy and like this was a hard decision, even if it was a damn good deal. He emphasized each movement by humming loudly, looking around the place with small comments such as _ooooo_ and _that's a tough one_ but soon relented with another shrug "Sounds like a deal to me, dad. Pleasure doing business with you," "James rolled his eyes "You won't be doing the business with me, boy." Draco flushed up violently, to the point she could feel her heart stutter and ears burn. Surprisingly, James didn't seem too bothered about the teens being sexual. He kept to earth about his teen years, and he was no saint at that time, and he admitted to being a bit of slag during his years in Hogwarts, and he felt that it wasn't right of him to put his son to standards he did not live up to himself. Along with that, in England, the consent terms said that sixteen-year-olds were allowed to take that sexual step, and he trusted Harry enough to use a contraceptive, as he bought the boy plenty of protection since if his son was going to indulge in sexual contact he wanted it to be done safely.

With that, the adult went up the stairs, using the banister to drag his tired body up the stairs as the group of redheads and brown started to giggle quietly to the commentary they just heard, even Harry was snickering. Draco smacked her lover's chest a bit harshly, giving her boyfriend an expression that spelled out her distaste to being made the center of the comedy. Sure, she could tease the Weasley's, but she hated being the punchline itself, it was something that would most likely never leave her, it was practically built in the Malfoy genetic to take their reputation and name seriously. Harry did straighten out and quit his quiet laughter, rubbing Draco's back and waving his hand "Alright, alright, I'm sure Molly will be wanting all of ya home, and you still gotta drop off Moine, so skedaddle." the small group didn't stop grinning knowingly, Ron trailing just to say "Looks like I'm not going to be the only one choking on air," before quickly closing the door shut. Draco growled "That's it, I'm going to beat his Weasel head into the ground," she went to walk forward, face still burning until she was scooped up in her boyfriend's arms "No you don't. C'mon, let's get you out of all that get up so we can relax. I don't want to hear another tangent from the donor that I wrinkled your dress." 

Harry never referred to Lucius as Draco's father, it was terms like sperm donor, bastard, deadbeat, nothing that gave him the title he was above Draco. She knew that her boyfriend's opinion of her father was subpar, and the old hoot deserved it for his outdated views that resulted in many degrading and toxic terms to leave her sire's lips on multiple occasions when arguing with her boyfriend. But, until she could find a way to leave her home situation, she had to respect him as much as one could in her situation, even if that on its own was a constant mask she kept up in order to satisfy the aged Malfoy's desires of being obeyed and atop the world like a bloody king. 

Going up the stairs and down the hall towards Harry's room made Draco smile a bit. Despite not being in James' home for a while, everything was as she remembered, with some of his son's achievements and photos on the wall, with his diploma when he finished off his years from an amateur detective to working in the lower levels of the department he now kept functioning like smooth butter. There were small knick-knacks left around to decorate the space as well, small sculptures of elk and snowglobes strewed about. James was a massive collector, anything he liked he had to get in every color, size, and different character. It was how he spent his past times, becoming addicted off TV shows Harry would recommend him before buying any merchandise on the market and decorating his mancave or just the halls of the home with the newly purchased objects. Carpeted floors muffled the male's normally light stomps that would become extremely noticeable on hardwood flooring, and walls painted a muted creme to let the things of collectible and importance take the control of telling a story. 

Walking into Harry's room seemed almost the same as going down James hallways, a trip down a memory lane. Whilst most of Harry's academic work stayed at his mother's and step-fathers, anything sports stayed at his father's in his room. Trophies in glass casing were proudly presented, polished pristine to make them seem to sparkle even in the soft lighting of the moonlight shining through a window. Posters of the man's inspirations and teams he liked to follow while watching matches at the Weasley's couch covered plain white walls, and the floor was carpeted as the hallway was. His bed was a bit small for Harry, considering the man loved to eagle spread and sleep with his limbs to cover any surface possible, he and Draco always found aways to fit. Clothes were tossed half hazardly on the floor, and when Draco was set down on the unmade bed she watched him either toss some of the clothing under the bed or toss into his hamper, claiming in a mutter he'd do it later. 

She watched him go into his closet, rummaging about before taking out an oversized Tee and some basketball shorts, tossing it over to the bed "Go ahead and dress into those, I'll go see if there are any makeup wipes around for you to take the cake off," he offered a smile before walking out of the room. With a sigh of relief, Draco got to unstrapping her heels, feeling her ankles crack in a gleeful sound of freedom to no longer have her feet moving in such an awkward angle. As much as Draco and Harry got intimate, Harry had never actually seen much of Draco's body. She just wouldn't let him, couldn't let him. If he looked at her and saw the same flaws her mother did, how she wasn't perfect like he expected, it would crush her. If Harry pointed out an external mistake on her body, it would wreck her emotionally, she could not handle disappointing him like that. So, she always took his glasses off, since he was blind as a bat without them, and he couldn't have contacts in either to help him see either since Draco would even at times check the tap to make sure they were still in the container, submerged in contact solution to ensure that he wouldn't be able to see her, to judge her silently or express it with the loudmouth nature she adored out of him. 

Taking off the corset felt like a breath of fresh air, both literally and figurately. It felt invigorating to be able to breathe properly once more, as normally she would be up into the late hours of the night with it on, to the point the bottoms of her ribs and waist would be purpling in bruises to how tightly done up it was. It was a nice reminder in a way that this was her safe place, this wasn't home where Draco had to hold her tongue, couldn't be her ideal self where all people saw was witty perfection. Next came to undoing the layer of a petticoat, which fell with the simple tug at the white ribbon tied just above her hips. Stripping off her tights and bra was just as easy, and by then she was left in panties, down to the most basic form of a human being, one that rested without expectation, without what a Malfoy had to be for ideals. It was nice to be like this, and perhaps it was why she liked being in the bath so much, but hardly had the time to be her phycologist at the moment, Potter may return soon and there was no way she could stay like this when he returned, not with his glasses on. 

Slipping on the clothes he provided would tremendously easier than whatever her father had picked for her to wear on normal occasions, it was simple to tug over a basic white shirt and basketball shorts, even with needing to tie the front of the shorts to make them fit her slim waist. Pulling all the small bobby pins from her hair was a tedious task, but she always found some small enjoyment in doing. It was like her treasure hunt to search for them all until her hair would fall in a blonde river down her back for Harry to thread his fingers through like he had done many nights at Hogwarts when she snuck into the male's dormitories to lay with him. Whether it was for the presence, the comfort, or just the feeling, it did not matter to her, as long as it was always Harry's hands carding her hair; not some mysterious bloke who would never hold the same compassion, same tongue and rebellion he carried to him. 

After a bit of waiting, Potter had reentered the room, having a small pack of wipes in one of his hands as he closed the door "I managed to find some, they aren't the normal ones you use, but at least it'll get it off," he went over, handing Draco the pack. It was a standard name brand, one that middle-class people would certainly use as their regular wipe. She went to his mirror, which was bolted onto the wall rather than some fancy vanity that she owned at home to hold all of her products. She had to pull a second wipe to use on her face since the first one was unbelievably dry and would certainly hurt her sensitive skin if she had to rub it so harshly to remove any of the added layers. It took a few good swipes, and even a few extra wipes than she'd like to be using, but soon all of her makeup was removed from her face, leaving it just a slight dryer. She was glad that Harry kept some things for his skin around, he wasn't entirely incompetent in the world of beauty or skincare, and she was able to snatch some of his face cream from his dresser and apply it, pleased to feel moisture return to her skin and pores. 

Closing the container and setting it back down, Draco had turned around to address her boyfriend, but her mouth never opened, and tongue had glued itself to the roof of her mouth. He was already undressed, stripped down to his bare boxers that barely concealed the package underneath. He was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, sat up with the support of his pillows to support his back, so nonchalant. Draco found herself admiring his frame, it certainly wasn't the first time she'd seen him practically bare, but there was still something so outwarding with it. The way Harry could trust her with the view of his frame, not being ashamed off the marks on the skin, something she always found herself feeling giddy too. No shirt was there to cover his bronze torso, showing off his gains of the summer, which came in the form of chiseled abs, rippling biceps, and toned pecks.

Muscles seemed to jut out in sharp angles and contours, but along with the exposure came all the scars that lined the skin. Harry always told Draco of how he was much more careless as a child than he was now, and some of them had been from his ignorant childhood where he would climb trees without a moment of hesitation, run-down pavement and fall flat on his face, or even just try a dangerous trick with his bicycle. The majority of the marks came from sports accidents, things he claimed to be unavoidable when it came to the game. Things happened out of the fields, that was just unplanned and were bound to happen. His pain tolerance was high, so even with how some seemed gnarly markings, he claimed that they were mainly painless when it happened.

"Like what you see?" she was forcibly snapped from her thoughts, looking up from the bulky frame to see his face, looking quite pleased. Harry's phone had been abandoned to the nightstand, and he had his signature lopsided, a cocky grin that spelled deviance and satisfaction. Draco quickly turned her gaze away, looking off at the door and crossing her arms over her waist "I know baby, I am irresistible," Harry mused, and one of her hands was being unwound from where they were just put, and she was being pulled closer. Draco gained some nerve to look back into his eyes, the striking green stealing her breath away and her porcelain hand was being placed on supple, tan skin. He was sitting up fully now, faces so close that noses could brush as he added,

"But this sexy piece of ass is also yours, so come on Draco, touch me." his voice has an edge of pleading. She just knows he misses her hands on him as she does his on her. Her mouth feels as though it's going dry, lips feeling of sandpaper that she just has to swipe her tongue across them to gain back some of the lost moisture. She just gives a silent nod, that seems more drunken and slow than she'd ever like to admit, and soon her other pale hand is joining the other, running up from his stomach up rugged skin, strong ribs, and sternum. 

He's letting out a shaky breath to the sensation, one that holds gravel underneath and could register as a low groan. Draco can feel her body heating far too quickly, dizzy and needy, drunk already from just swiping her hands up his body. So, she's moving them back down, and confidence is slowly pooling from her gut and spreading back out to the pads of her fingers. Her feet are moving until she's crawled onto the bed, straddling his thighs and moving with much more vigor. Harry's hands are roaming up her sides, slipping underneath the loose t-shirt he had given her to return some of the feelings he was receiving. His movements are much more greedy, rough fingertips massaging circles into her skin that send sparks of dangerous flames throughout her nerves, and she's helplessly mewling at the familiar feeling, toes curling and slick start to drip and pool into her underwear and coat her supple entrance. 

Draco's hands are roaming up from his chest to his collarbone, jugular and then jaw, moving to cup his cheek. Her breath is already uneven, and silver eyes layered in a lust she had been abstaining from for the last three months. With a small smile of reassurance, hands move up to the sides of his glasses, gently slipping the circle frames from his face, folding them and setting them on the bedside table. Only then, is she pulling off her shirt and letting it tumble onto the carpeted floor, turning around so her bare, and already damp back is pressing into his strong chest, and allowing his hands to roam from a modest placement at her waist, up in a tantalizing way to swollen, full breasts. 

The way Harry's hands roam across the bosoms is spellbinding and making Draco lightheaded. Slow, exploring motions are being placed across her, as though Harry is remapping the space for his memory of what he cannot see with the lack of his spectacles, and she can't help but squirm and press into the touches of his roaming hands, letting soft moans out and pleads with movements rather than voicing them. They never talked much while intimate, it was all left to animalistic sounds and needs, groans and moans coming out in a symphony of lusted need, where the only discernible thing to leave Draco's mouth is his name and _oh god more_. His fingers are trecking a path to her areola's, and slowly slinking to her puffed up nipples, hardened through lust and just begging to be teased. In seconds, the rough pads are rolling them, and a helpless slew of sounds is falling from her lips, head falling back against his shoulder as his lips are trailing a line of kisses against her exposed neck.

"Mmn- _aaah~_ ah Ha~_arrry,_" the sounds the platinum blonde are letting out are between croaks and strained sobs of delight. It feels so bloody good to have his hands on her, it's a sensation she's been deprived of, hungry for far too long to be remotely healthy. The gentle touches he administrates with uneven skin are mesmerizing to her, and practically blowing her mind and pupils out of proportion as they struggle to even focus on the ceiling itself. Her hand is threading itself into raven hair, and Draco's hips are pistoning back to work her arse against his hardening cock. A growl is ripping from his throat, and hearing such a pleasing sound is making her already quivering slit gush further, and her panties are already beyond ruins from the assertions of dominance, and yet keeping her in some control of movement and if she wanted this to stop or not.

When he moves his hands away from her chest she wants to weep, but a reassuring kiss on her ear is silently telling her to stay patient. She's being gently manhandled into lifting her hips a bit allowing him to adjust how his hungry cock is resting between the two frames. He's pulled it out of the confines, she can just tell from how Harry's body feels a bit more like putty rather than tense with a pent up need for freedom of the cotton prison. In a few moments, Draco's underwear and basketball shorts are being pulled off in a very slow fashion, giving her the time if she wishes to tell him to knock it off. Her gut is building excitement, and she's even moving her legs to help with the removal of the pesky, soaked fabric. Once it's pulled off and abandoned onto a small pile of clothing on the floor, she's slowly lowering herself to rest her supple lips to the side of his cock, making a loud keen escape fall from her mouth at the feeling of velvet skin against the other. 

Her grip in Harry's hair is tightening to the point of a claw, slightly elongated nails scratching at his scalp as her hips are starting to move on their own, becoming a woman possessed as they roll back and forth eagerly, moving up and down his shaft. With some unannounced miracle, Harry is managing to keep his hips still, to not overwhelm his fragile lover with some of his movements, and rather to give Draco some more control of how they fit together. She's keeping it slow at first, wanting to get used to the overwhelming pleasure of how it feels to have his prick against her womanhood, how the grinding sensation feels and if she can even handle it. And slowly, her hips become urgent and needy, gyrating forward and back, up and down in some insatiable fevor, clearly just wanting _more_. 

The raven-haired teen isn't one to deny pleasure, and his hands are moving back up to Draco's supple breasts, working the perked nipples and running the felt tips of his fingers across the areolas, and any strip of skin his lithe fingers can reach. His tongue is darting across hot, snow-white flesh, teeth knawing down to finally leave small marks, that can be easily covered with makeup so Lucius doesn't need to see them, and he's only pressing his hips up a fraction to start letting the expanse of flesh start to rub against the bundle of nerves that'll make her see stars. The sounds Draco is making are erotic enough to put a pornstar to shame, a beautiful symphony of high pitched moans falling from her mouth in an endless cycle, head still leaned back against his shoulder, and hand still tousling and roughing up the jet black locks. Her gut is knotting, winding up in harsh twists and ties that almost feel agonizing, that is making her hips only work harder even with how raw her cunt feels from the rough motions she's pressing down. But she can't stop- not until she can fall apart with her boyfriend in euphoric bliss, have this building mansion of ecstasy finally topple heavily with a hit of a wrecking ball. 

It doesn't take much more for the Malfoy heir to finish to her ends, it's how Potter keeps his mouth pressed against her pulse point, feeling the rushing blood under the skin as he mumbles in a gurtle, sensual voice "C'mon princess," and it's all it takes. As pathetic as it sounds true, but the way his voice drops in decibels rocks her entire body and has the wound up rope snapping instantly, a sensation of being spineless takes a toll as she's spilling hot cum against his dick, which is dripping down pure heat across the sensitive skin. It's pushing Harry to his limits, how his stomach is tensing against the small of her back, fingers flexing and digging into her nipples rather than massaging, she can feel his face tightening up before Potter is reaching his end. Ribbons of cum are soon jutting out, and Draco does what she can to work him through it, even with how her mind is in jello and feels a blank white, she manages to move her hips in small back and forth rhythm to work him through it, her hand untangling from his hair and falling to rest against his thigh, where one of his own is slowly lacing the extremities together in a warm, comforting grasp. 

The stench of sex and sweat is overpowering the room, to the point Harry has to weakly lift one of his arms to push open the window, letting in the cold night air that firmly pelted their faces when they rode here. They're slowly laying down, tangling each other in sweaty limbs as his umber hand is rubbing circles down and across her back, making a purr erupt from the back of her throat as she presses closer. The limbo of what they just did takes a while to settle, and once it does Harry is using his other hand to dig under his bed and pull out one of the dirty shirts, carefully rubbing between Draco's thighs to clean up the mess before doing the same for his cock, and tossing the splooge covered tee across the room and in one of the corners. The blonde is reaching down to grab her shirt from the floor, pulling it half hazardly on, which is only when Harry is putting his glasses back on to look over his girlfriend's flushed face. He's giving a droopy smile, that shows exhaustion behind the eyes as he presses his mouth against her sweaty forehead "I missed you so much this summer." 

Draco slowly looks up at him, pushing back some of his messy post-sex hair and rubbing his cheek "Why didn't you try talking to me as much? Last year you tried once a week and this time... I was lucky to get anything during the month." the frown that comes to Harry's face hurts to look at, but it's a valid question, she felt ignored during the summer by her boyfriend, and the constant worry he found someone better was ebbing away at her throughout the hot days. He lets out a sigh before pulling her lithe body closer into his "The bastard made me, he got in contact with some of the schools that I'm interested in for Football stuff, said if I didn't bugger off he'd do anything in his power to make sure I didn't get a scholarship." the explanation is clear and concise, and Draco can now understand Harry's avoidance. Football is one of the things he's deathly in love with, the sport, the concentration, strategy, and tactics, not to mention he's amazing at it. It's part of his plans to do it during college to help him with scholarships, and because he just loves it, while perhaps advancing like his father in a career to the police force. 

A huff is what she first responds with, her cheeks puffing out in a pout as she flicks his nose and his glasses go slightly off-balance "Let me make this clear, Potter. I will never, ever let my father take Football away from you. I don't care what I would have to do to keep you on the field, but I would do it," she hides her face into the crook of his neck before continuing "You play not only for yourself but for me. That's why this year I expect you to bring home that gold for me and Slytherin, got it?" she can hear his heart skip a beat, and the way he's squeezing her frame is full of appreciation and love with a small chuckle "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind the next time he tries it." a yawn rips itself from his throat, and he's reaching over to turn off the irritant of a lamplight, the blanket and shared body heat is keeping them in a meld of sweet warmth and heat, as Harry is stretched out like a starfish with Draco pressed closely into his side as the two sleep in the presence of the other.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, summer is over and Draco is taken back to another year of Hogwarts.

The cold air of the Ice Arena was filling her breathless lungs, sending small puffs of the nipping vapor out to form small clouds that whipped past her faceguard as she moved across the ice. Her legs were hunched enough so the razor skates attached to her feet would continue to drive her forward on the slippery floor, the hockey stick firmly being led with her right hand as she kept the puck in her zone to get it to the end. The commentator's chatter had fallen into insignificant background noise, the cheers of the crowds posted in the stands followed. All that mattered was watching where she was going, managing to slide past other opponents or pass to her teammates. If someone got in the way, shoot the puck to the next possible teammate, or as far as possible for someone to rope it into the rhythm of the rink. 

Her feet were aching, lungs defeated into helpless panting of the cold air that only seemed to rack chills throughout her nervous system. The clunky robes had contained the heat, but even then cold was still managing to seep through and giving her a ragged sweat. It all made her feel alive. Each precise movement she was managing through wavering eyes was sending shots of adrenaline through her system, that kept her moving, kept her head in the sport that she was devoting herself to at that moment. It was not only that but also the ebbing voice of her boyfriend in her head, whispering the sweet message of _You can do it, c'mon Princess._

Draco can feel herself wavering, how her sheltered body wants to collapse on the cold ground to catch a second of air that didn't sting her esophagus when it went down. So she could let her porcelain hands that have formed a claw at this point from how tightly she is gripping her hockey stick to drop it in a heap of defeat. It's the thought of Harry's sweet voice of reassurance, how he talked of how perfect it would be to see a sparkling gold trophy that would sit next to the Football championship cup.

The thought of that perfection, the pleased look of her lover, is enough to have her slamming the stick harshly against the puck, sending it off flying at the goal post. The goalie is caught off guard, and the flat disk is hitting the confines of twine that create the goalposts. It seems luck is on her side, as the timer to the second quarter is finishing off, one she didn't even realize was counting down, and the sound of the end of the game is not the normal, blaring screech that alerts players they can finally collapse in exhaustion. It is a repetitive ding, that slowly is taking more of a sound of an alarm clock. 

Rather than the applause of the crowd, the praise of her team, and the sweet numbers on the scoreboard saying that Slytherin won the game, Draco is met with the black velvet of her canopy above. Her body and nightgown are drenched in horrid sweat as her breath comes out in uneven puffs. The alarm sitting on her bedside table is still ringing loudly into her right ear. Her hand weakly reaches over to turn off the horrid sound, letting it flop back down onto the damp mattress. With a sigh, she let her hand push back some of the sticky platinum hair from her forehead "Those damn dreams." she mumbled, they'd been happening since her "kidnapping" to Harry's. The gift he had mentioned turned out to be a hockey uniform, with him embedding the idea she should start playing. 

_Anytime I see you on the ice you look like you belong there, Princess. I know you want to try a sport out, so maybe just give it a shot. _

Ever since then it had been burnt into her mind, playing different scenarios of what-if possibilities. What if she tried out for Hockey? Would she even make the cut? What would her father say? 

She paused, picking her phone up from the stand beside her bugger of an alarm clock, pulling it off the charger to get a better grasp of it as she turned the screen on. She didn't have any data, her phone turned onto airplane mode due to Lucius severing the ties of her communicating to friends and Harry for last week's mishappening at the party. So, there were no reservations to catch her gaze as she checked the date at the lock screen. Right beside the Slytherin emblem she had as her background, stood the date and time proudly in bold white. 

7:01 AM   
1st, September 2019. 

The moment she saw the date, her heart went racing on a cloud nine, an envigorating weight being lifted from her shoulders as her eyes reread the letters, making sure she wasn't still dreaming by pinching herself. She was going back to Hogwarts, bloody _finally_. She had missed it dearly this summer. Draco missed being listened to, having a voice for once that wasn't shunned by her father's shadow, she missed feeling powerful and alive in ways Harry made her feel in Hogwarts. Being home had become dreadful since she let him in during the fourth year, it became easy to express herself and be a strong, powerful heroine rather than a solicit follower of her father. She started to see how ideologies that she was taught were truly dreadful in the broader spectrum of the world, outdated and unacceptable. Draco wanted to grow as a person, become more in touch with herself, to be the perfection that her father would never see out of her by degrading her, cutting her down before she could even grow a sprout. 

Leaping out of the bed, she beelined toward her bathroom, tossing the fabric of her drying gown to a clump on the tiled flooring as her hands got to adjusting the knobs of the bath to start releasing a spray of warm water into the tub, pulling the plug so it would start to fill. Soft humming filled the space, courtesy of Draco, as she added her bath salts and soaps, watching how they started to react and cause large amounts of bubbles to start forming where the spout spilled the warmth. 

Once the bath was filled, she turned off the spray and slid into the warm water, letting out a sigh of content as the warm water and salts gently seemed to drift and massage her body. She relished in the boneless feeling that overtook her in brief moments, how her legs were trying to gain buoyancy and lift from the long tub to let her knees bump out of the warm water, how steam caressed her collarbone and face, that had not yet been submerged within the depths of relaxation. 

"Draco, darling, it's time to get up for Hogwarts." Just as the world was seeming to melt off into another dimension, she could hear the door to her room click, and the sound of her mother's voice follows the sound. she can't help but smile at the sound of Narcissa's voice. She's following their small tradition, that not even Lucius is aware of. Each year, while she gets ready for the day, it has become part of her and Narcissa's bonding time to spend it together. The aged woman would help her with bathing, getting her uniform done up and fixing her daughter's hair up. It was the one day where maids were forced to stay out by the mistress of the manor, told that this was a day that should not be sullied by mere workers and should be with her daughter.

Of course, if Lucius heard of this tradition, he would go rampant. Both parents held different wants for their daughter, with Narcissa wanting simplicity and grace for her daughter, to have the chance of childhood and freedom before her life would continue forward. Meanwhile, her father believed the complete opposite, wishing nothing more but unrealistic standards of perfection, work piles that would prepare her for his companies he didn't even believe she could run from being a woman. 

The door to the bathroom slowly opened, and the raven-haired woman stepped gracefully into the room. Draco relished her mother's morning wear, how it wasn't the form-fitting garbs she wore for gatherings and events, but rather free-flowing down her body in graceful sways and contours.

The dress she wore was tight around the bust, a soft white with a brown belt to adorn her waist. From there, it spread out in those rich expanses, where Draco was sure if she spun it would spread out into an elegant circle of perfection and cream. Narcissa normally wore dresses like these on special events, or when tending to her acres of gardens that were filled with flowers alike, along with natural herbs and produce. A laugh bellowed out of the woman once she saw her daughter already submerged in the water, the crease of her eyes gaining just a slight wrinkle to such a vibrant expression. 

"Already starting without me I see," she commented, walking over to take a seat at the edge of the tub, picking up the purple loofa left hanging on one of the bath walls. Draco hummed, beaming at her mother as she sat up and rested her head on her knee "I couldn't help myself to get started," she replied quietly, enjoying the presence of comfort, home, that radiated from the prestigious wife of Lucius as she took one of Draco's arms, the now drenched wad slowly being dragged down the skin to exfoliate the skin.

* * *

7:45 AM

Freshly blow-dried platinum hair was being gently brushed, easily slipping through the straight silk hair the heiress owned. Her mother's brushing was always comforting, unlike the maids. The maids always rushed, moving at miles per hour to get her ready, or to match the pace of chatter they had amongst each other. With Narcissa, it was always slow and sweet. The brush moved with the flow of the white river in a way only her mother ever could.

At times, Draco could feel her nails brush against her scalp in light, adoring motions to fix the strands, and each time it filled her soul with a warmth that couldn't be described. Everything about Narcissa was graceful, elegant and sweet. She had a heart of gold to her daughter, always close when they could be. From the dance floor when she dazzled the floor with fluent motions, to even working in her gardens, everything she did seemed full of care and adoration to it. Unless to Lucius, everything to the mongrel of ahead of the manor was fueled with fear developed over the years. He did things to heart the two women, and Narcissa's voice died out a long time ago from it, living only in the things she still loved in this world. 

Once the last parts of her hair were neatly fixed, Narcissa set the hairbrush down to pick up another one, that was circular and bristles all across it rather than just at the front. Her hair was sprayed down with a protective serum before the woman got to work on curling it, letting soft hums while she worked. Narcissa was always extremely great in all things feminity, dressing, makeup, hair. If it wasn't for the Black-Malfoy name, she said she would've opened a Hair Salon to follow her passions of making creative pieces with hair. She used a flat iron rather than a curler, years of experience teaching her how to make a firm, big curls with the technique. 

"There we are, nice and full. Now just a bit of spray to keep them in place and they'll go outstanding with your prefect outfit," closing her eyes, she could hear the spray of the can of hairspray that once rested in one of the drawers, followed by the smell of it. Hair sprays on its own seemed to smell flammable, thick and foggy. It was hard to breathe in and stiff even without a surface to stick on.

Dainty hands carded the hair a final time to finish the full look before Draco was able to revel in her mother's expertise, how the curls fell in thick silver ringlets down her shoulders and framing her face. They were surely bigger than her aunt Bellatrix's, hers fitting much tighter and crazy, but sophisticated. She could see Narcissa smile behind her from the mirror of the vanity, placing a hand on her daughter's bare shoulder "It's perfect."

Draco's heart soared into new heights at the praise, filling with a golden glee that couldn't be explained. She was glad to please her mother, her idol, her perfection. Though, she was taken down when her eyes moved down from her face, to her still bare torso. She had her undergarments on, but that didn't stop from pale, lightly freckled skin to peek through, and the gashes of scars across it.

One started at her left hip bone, trailing up her flat stomach and to the belly button. Another was across the right lower part of her ribs, where her bra could just barely cover a part of it as it stopped just where her sternum started. Finally, the worst of them all started from her left breast. It started at the adipose tissue just above her areola, luckily missing anything important before slipping down her sternum and carving underneath her right breast. It was the biggest of all the markings, and even if it somehow managed to feel like normal skin, the color was off, coming off dark and murky compared to her pale complexion. 

Those markings were the bane of her existence, permanent representation of the flesh that she was not perfect. She could never be perfect. She was an imperfection, scratched porcelain that ruined the overall beauty no matter how much makeup or hairspray was put on. No matter what her mother would say of how amazing she looked in any dress her father picked, how her hair would look when her years of practice shinned, she was never going to be completely perfect. It was the worst punishment. 

"I should've done something more," Narcissa's voice chimed in, lithe hand reaching out to trace the line that was on the stomach, which made her daughter tense "I should've gotten you out of there. I should've- I should do more as a mother. I failed you that day by letting you get hurt by his brutish ways," she could hear how broken her mother's voice had become strained, choking back a broken sob between it while her manicured nails traced the lines of the imprint. Draco turned around, facing the taller woman, seeing the distraught in her eyes, as if it was playing the movie of that day all over again. All she could do in turn was hug the woman, her voice becoming harsh like it was impossible to push the words out from the need to cry at that moment.

"Mother-stop saying that. You did all you could, there was nothing more you could've done. I spoke out of the tongue, it was my fault," Narcissa hugged her tightly, the sound finally resonating out of her throat in a strained sadness. And by all the gods, Draco wished she could do something more to relieve her mother of this grief that was tightly wound like barbed-wire to her heart. 

"No, no, no, Draco don't you dare suggest such a ludicrous thing. I'm your mother, I had every way to protect my child, my flesh and blood," Draco scoffed, hiding her face into the crevice between her long neck and shoulder "Then what could you have done?" she could feel her mothers skin feel chilly with goosebumps, her grip tighten along Draco's back, and how the elegant woman had become rigid in her stance. After a few seconds, Draco continued "You did all you could, and even if it wasn't enough, I forgive you." 

The cultured, refined, balanced Narcissa Black Malfoy became reduced down to broken sobs, the words of her daughter tearing her apart in ways of guilt and yet relief for the forgiveness of her failure. The way the strangled sounds left the woman hurt in more ways than being stabbed in the chest could and Draco's face was soon damp in tears. The mother and daughter stood there together, holding each other, trying to comfort the other, as a memory both tried to forget echoed in the room to deafen.

* * *

8:10 AM 

"Come along Draco, I want to see my beautiful Prefect all dressed up," her mother's voice peered in from the doors that lead inside the closet, a shallow knock to follow. With a small smile, she called out "In a moment, I'm just about done," the outfit was stunning, it even took the heiress' heart away. The Prefect outfits were different than the arbitrary uniform, to show off professionalism and authority among the other students. Whilst other students dealt with tanktops and soft cotton grey sweaters to fit any color the house tie would go with, along with black slacks (skirts for women) and dress shoes, the prefect uniforms were much more decked out. Rather than simple wear, she had an emerald, soft blouse with cuffed sleeves to go underneath her grey suit jacket. The skirt was pleated, with plaid being the formation of the black wear and narrow stripes, where it dipped down to grey tights and green wedges. The outfit was entirely designed to her measurements, being a sort of consolation prize to her outstanding work to get to such an authoritative figure. 

She fixed her curled hair back carefully with a green headband, the outfit seeming incomplete without the addition of the color matching to her undershirt and wedges, before finally stepping out to greet her mother. She was sat on the silken bed, a cup of tea resting in hands that a maid brought in while waiting for her child.

As the door clicked open, she looked up, her blue eyes growing wide at the sight of Draco, mouth slack and hands slowly going to rest on her lap. After a moment of silent staring, her eyes welled with new tears to replace the ones from earlier, the cup quickly being abandoned to her nightstand as she got up and went over "Oh Draco- It's... It's remarkable." Narcissa continued to access the heiress, walking around her figure with small gasps and comments on how well the outfit was tailored for her. Once she was back to facing the child, she cupped her cheek. 

"I remember the day that I became a Prefect. I was so excited for everyone to see my outfit and gawk at me. Andromeda said it looked great, Bellatrix called me dumpy. But, no matter what, I wore with confidence and grace," a soft kiss was pressed to her forehead, and as her mother's soft lips rested there, she could feel her next words warm her skin from soft intakes of air "Draco, you hold more of the Black family than you do a Malfoy. You may look at your father, but you are still my daughter. You are my little dragon, even with fear still full of fangs, waiting to bite. I can only hope what you bite is not to the good, like your lovely boyfriend Harry," Draco's eyes went wide, taking a step back to look up at her mother, feeling sweat layer her back "You knew?" she managed to squeak out, feeling herself tremble in sturdy heels. 

Narcissa laughed, the placement near her eyes gaining the soft wrinkles of age "Oh darling, of course, I knew. You look at that boy like he put the earth in orbit. I think anyone with some sense can see the adoration you have for him, and him to you." Draco was shocked, scoffing while putting a hand to her cheek "So father-" "He is choosing to ignore the fact. He doesn't accept it, even with it being painfully obvious. He wants you to end up with the Greengrass boy, and although your love interest is quite sporadic for my liking, the way he lights up your face is what I adore from him." soft, pale hands moved up to cover the one Draco had on her face, that slowly moved away to enjoy the sensation of her idols cupping her face in a comforting sense.

"Draco, my dragon of teeth and fang, a darling Black heiress. I want you to reach for your happy ending. I want you to follow that Potter to the ends of the earth, just if it means that you continue to smile, have that twinkle of wonder in your eyes no one has managed to spark before. I never got my happy ending, even if it started as such, no one in my family has. Your father is a coward, hiding behind wealth and power, with hits and words, that could do nothing to hide that he is truly weak. I can only hope that the reason he has become bleak and horrid, is because you stripped his light to become a woman better than he could be a man." 

* * *

9:00 AM 

"I expect you to be punctional to all your classes, not a moment late. If there is a reason you must stay in the hospital wing, I want to know exactly what brought you into there and if your injury is to make you miss class. If it is, you must make up anything you missed. You need straight A's this year consistently, I don't want you bested by that mudblood again."   
"Yes, Father." 

Breakfast in the Malfoy manor wasn't simple and happy. The atmosphere was sweet, sat in Narcissa's flourishing garden, with small insects of bees, butterflies, caterpillars, and more to rest at different parts of the flowers and greenery. They were sat underneath a gazebo of white, that had twine wrapped around the white wood that built up to the deep brown top that allowed vines to roam up. The seating was made with those same whites and dark browns, giving off a very cozy and sweet feel. The path leading up to the spot was masoned into it, large flat rocks slowly leading through to the steps. It should be wholesome with such scenery, with Lucius perhaps talking of all the possibilities for Draco's future, and Narcissa being able to speak as well. 

"I expect you to keep your appointments on checking yourself to continue as normal. Madam Pomfrey has been told to ensure to do it monthly to ensure you're not being promiscuous outside of marriage with that boy toy."  
"Yes, Father." 

That's never how it worked, even with the beauty where they sat, it was all vile and cruel words that fell from the sire's mouth and somber silence from the mistress. 

"Academics should be your main priority at all times. Since you are staying at Hogwarts for Christmas for the Yule Ball, I want you to get some extra credit done and to speak with your teachers. Constant communication is key. Sports is not an option, you could get bruises or calloused your hands, which is not proper or comfortable to shake someone's hand with. Unless you want to start wearing gloves to all of my events, you will avoid them, and I've already contacted your Physical Health teacher to ensure you don't get your hands dirty."   
"Yes, Father." 

This was always patronizing, invasive, personalized and tailored to almost mock the heiress whilst forced to sit in the Tyrants company. She hadn't seen him since last week, thanks to being locked up in her room like some princess in a tower. When she was returned home by Harry, he was beyond enraged at him, to the point Narcissa held him back from making a swat or move to hit the teen. Though, Harry didn't make it much better, needing to be pushed back by Draco since he was puffing his chest out, glaring with emerald gaze and demanding he take a swing. From there, when the "belligerent boy toy" was able to leave, Draco was forced into her room. She did not attend any events, had no use to her TV or anything electronic. All she was allowed to do was draw or study for her return to Hogwarts. Lucius made his disappointment in his daughter clear, saying he couldn't dare look at his failure of a child for disobeying his wishes that night and embarrassing him in front of his fellow aristocrats. 

"Also, I want you to stay away from that pest, Potter. He will only drag you down," Draco's eyes widened a little, looking up at her father's steely gaze "But-" "There will be no buts young lady. You are a Malfoy, I do not care what title you hold with him. Whether you are doing this to mock me or for the taste of rebellion, I will not be tolerating this rebellious behavior. To ensure you won't associate with that miscreant, I've had your mother make a contracted agreement with Snape, as head of your house, to keep you two as separate as possible." Draco stared into her father's dead eyes, they were strong, unerring and harsh. When she looked at her mother's blue, she saw nothing but guilt, a true sadness to forcing her daughter into something like this. She didn't want to, what she said earlier spoke volumes of her opinion of Harry, this was Lucius speaking through her again. 

Draco hated this, she hated it so much. Hogwarts was meant to be her freedom, a little chance to be her person. Where she can be some queen bee rather than a subservient of her father. His control of her life wasn't meant to bleed into it like this. Yes, in her first years of Hogwarts she religiously used him as a power card, but it was all she ever known back then. Power, talk of blood purity, all of it was all she heard for years. So, her confusion about the changes is what made her constantly contact him of different issues, because she was following his belief. Now, in her sixth year, she was trying to go out and away from that power, to gain just a bit of personality and independence without meddling. The woman she was meant to look up to was corrupt, the man who was meant to be a father nothing but a businessman who used his cunning prowess to control even his own family. 

Despite the words and each emotion bubbling in her head, she picked up her cup of tea, grit her teeth, and gave a calm expression "Yes father," she gave him what he wanted, submission to the agreement. When she sipped the tea, it had gone cold and was bitter on her tongue, yet she still swallowed with a small grimace to the now ruined flavor.

* * *

10:55 AM 

Finally, she was at the train station. Students and adults alike fluctuated the Kingscross, all eager to get the child onto the Express and off until they'd see them at Christmas. Toads croaked and snakes hissed in terrariums, as they were small ambitions and allowed at the school. Rats and mice were allowed as well, but just as the toads and snakes, they had to stay in cages so they wouldn't run havoc in the dormitories or houses. The house colors were sprung all over the place, the walkways toward the train having the different flags about the houses. Each year was divided into their own space of the train, with several different train cars to go with it so they may free-roam and associate with others. The first years were the people who got let on first, so they could soak in the goodness and excitement of the next several years at such a prestigious school. 

Second years, third years, fourth years, set by set were let into their respective areas, being helped by two conductors with far too wide smiles, clad in green, red, and golden accented uniforms. Despite the wealth the Hogwarts owned from being such a high-class, exclusive school, the train was weathered and aged. It fit a very old feel, matching the colors of uniform the conductors wore across its metal body, with small smears of rust at some of the large bolts and hinges. The train still ran beautifully, and although it's outside looked from an entirely different era, the inside was modernized and neat. 

Draco was standing beside her parents, soft winds whipping her hair as she took a deep breath of the gasoline stench that wreaked in the air. The wood floors were sticky under her shoes, most likely from soda being spilled a while ago, and made her cringe each time she moved her shoes and could hear the smack of the stickiness from the bottoms of her wedges. Her trunk was quite large, almost standing as tall as her and as wide as Hagrid, full of different supplies. It had her clothes, makeup, supplies to fix her side of the room, everything she could need carefully packed within the large baggage. Narcissa stood beside her daughter, rubbing small circles into her back whilst Lucius stood behind, not speaking a word and giving judgemental glares across anyone who wanted to even breathe near his daughter. 

"Six years may now board cars twenty-three to forty." At the announcement, Draco was immediately pulled into a tight hug by her mother, squeezing around her shoulders and making her almost suffocate from the Bower-Constrictor like hold "You better mail me the moment you arrive and get settled, I can't wait to see that video of you getting your prefect badge," With a small cough, Draco nodded, hugging her mother back as much tightly as she could "I will mother," a kiss was pressed to her forehead before the woman let her go, giving an adoring smile. Slowly, Draco looked up at her father, whose molten silver eyes weren't even looking at her. With a small sigh, she rubbed the back of her neck and looked off to the side "Father, I'm sorry," 

The heiress didn't even know what she was apologizing for. An overwhelming amount of guilt was just bubbling in her chest, and those were going to be the only words that could leave her lips. When she gained the nerve to look back at him, her breath got caught into her throat quite harshly, he was staring holes into her. His eyes were judgemental, harsh and cruel, impenetrable steel that could not be deterred. The sizzling guilt in her gut only seemed to grow at such a disappointed look, before he looked away as though Draco didn't mean anything once more "I have made sure you can get your car. Once everyone else boards, a conductor will lead you there. " 

Draco looked down at the ground, moving her feet a little and feeling the odd sensation under her shoes again whilst she did it. What was she expecting? Some form of farewell? He hardly even acknowledged her unless it was to his gain? What was even the point of trying to reach out? Being a perfection that no matter what would be beating down so her accomplishments were meaningless "Yes, Father." 

As Draco watched people file into the now available cars, she couldn't help but notice the lack of Potter. There was no tresses of messy black hair in sight, nor his tall figure that could be spotted a football field away. Her eyes kept helplessly scanning, but aside from the Weasley's, Granger, and some of her friends that shot her smiles and waves, she couldn't spot him anywhere. Eventually, the conductor made his way over, taking her bag "Right this way, madam," casting a final glance to her mother, she nodded and followed the man along. She walked past all the other long cars, which were filled with tons of chatter, and people trying to stuff their bags in the overhang so it wouldn't get in their way. 

Once she entered her car, she couldn't help but feel boiling dread. The car was designed as her father would probably make it. Rather than soft tans to make up the seating, they were a leather black. The floors were harsh mahagony, that seemed to pop out even to the dark interior, with accents of green rather than the red it formally had to pop out. The door that leads out still kept the velvet, but it was now covered by some tray that held snacks for the heiress to munch on. The conductor went over and somehow managed to lift the monstrous bag into the overhang, looking quite satisfied with himself despite being a twig. 

"If you need anything at all, I will be standing outside the door, as instructed by Mr. Malfoy to not let anyone inside," with a small nod, she watched him slowly shuffle out of the room, as though reluctant, before closing it. Draco had the courtesy to lock the door and close the curtain to the window that peered inside the room for privacy, then went straight to resting on the couch with an exasperated groan "Damnit father... This year is going to be absolute hell." her mind slipped into a wandering slew of thoughts, _When am I going to be able to see Harry? Would the school even let me try for Hockey with him around? Why was I even excited to come for this year? _

All these wandering questions were going to give her a bloody headache at the rate they were rushing in her head. Luckily, they were interrupted by a not-so-discreet sound at the overhang. The sudden rumble made her jolt, considering the fact they weren't even moving yet, it was strange to hear her luggage or really anything moving up there. So, she stood up on the leather-clad couch for some needed height, reaching up and opening the space. It was all pitch black really, it should've only been her bag resting in the space above her. Yet, vibrant, far too familiar eyes stared back at her, along with a cocky grin. 

Regardless of the familiarity of it all, it was bloody terrifying to open up the overhead and have a face look back at her. A loud shriek erupted from Draco, and an umber hand reached out and held her from just falling off the couch and onto the floor while the heiress' heart raced at several miles per hour, adrenaline kicking harshly and just trying to fight or flight. With a tug that seemed seamless to the person above, she was pulled closer to not fall, and her mouth was covered to shush the incessant screaming she was letting out. 

"Hey, calm down princess," the voice finally made her relax a little, staring back up at the eyes with a paler complexion than a ghost "Ha-Harry?" they nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead after "Yeah, relax a little." another voice filtered in, along with a loud banging to the door that made her whip her head around "Madam Malfoy!? Are you alright?!" Quickly, while squeezing Harry's hand, she called back "Yes I'm just fine! I saw a spider and it startled me is all. Don't worry, I killed it!" the voice didn't follow after that, and with a sigh of relief she let go of the calloused hand and stepped down from the couch, moving aside so Potter could jump down from the barrack above. 

Once he landed, he closed the overhang compartment and pulled his lover into a hug "Geez, you screamed louder than a banshee, baby. Remind me to never scare you again, I'm pretty sure dad would think you were getting murdered," the warmth of Harry's body was relaxing, along with the smell of rich cologne and strong muscles to squeeze her lithe form. Though, she was still bloody angry and placed a harsh smack to his chest "That wasn't funny Potter." he whined in response, pressing his cheek against hers "Baabbyy noooo you said you'd stop calling me that in the fourth year," Draco all but huffed in response "Well, I'm upset. You scared me for Christ's sake. How did you even get in here?" 

He placed an apologetic kiss to her cheek, before starting to grin and picking Draco up to shower her in affections while explaining "Well, the moment I heard the deadbeat wanted you to stay away from me when Snape told me about the contract, I was pissed. Then, Hermoine and I overheard the conductor saying your car was prepared earlier, so we knew Lucius got you one so he can keep you away from me. While the first years were being let in, Ron caused a diversion and Hermoine gave me her credit card to swipe the lock to the door. It was pretty easy to tell because the donor likes Leather posh shit, I knew this was gonna be your car. Then I just needed to find a place to hide, which ended up with me climbing up the overhang. Then I heard you moping to yourself and I decided to surprise you, I didn't expect you to screech bloody murder and almost topple, but it was kinda cute so it's whatever," 

Draco couldn't help but roll her eyes, Harry walking over to the couch and sitting down, setting his lover in his lap and pressing more kisses across his face "God, the old bastard is getting more annoying by the fucking day. What did he even do when I left? None of my texts or calls went through to you, I thought he killed you or something, I was ready to storm that place like some knight in shining armor, be dramatic and shit." she hummed along, reaching up and starting to pet the sharp jut of his jawline, feeling trails of light stubble underneath her fingers "He made me stay in my room for a week, and he turned off my service so I couldn't do anything on my phone. He's still upset with me, and he even told me today I had to stay away from you." 

She watched as her lover's face filled a far too cocky grin, that probably bested the Chesire cat in another lifetime "Oh? Did he now," the words fell from his mouth like a sultry purr, as large hands started to rub small circles into her hips "Did he mention anything about the doctor visits?" Draco's mouth started to go dry, whining a little to the sweet sensation of his finger pads lightly digging into her sensitive skin. She nodded, eyes squeezing shut as he began to kiss a soft trail on her neck "Mhm, he said I had to continue my visits with Madam Pomfrey to make sure I didn't do anything sexual with you," 

A soft growl escaped from Harry's lips, which immediately was sending soft shocks through her body much as it had before. She was heating all over again, become a flame to gasoline, starting to burn and power within itself and with every contact of the fuel. She let out another whine, reaching over to one of his hands "Darling, I have to look good for the Prefect ceramony," "You keep an emergency make up bag in your luggage, I remember from last year when you sucked me off in the other train car. You remember that right? Ron and 'Moine had to scramble because of how harshly we were at it,"

Draco bit her lower lip, nodding along as his hands began to pop each button to her suitcoat, a reassuring kiss being pressed into her neck with each one undone. She remembered that day in the train car vividly, how it felt to the weight of Harry's cock in her mouth, each harsh groan that left his lips while his hands carded into her hair with vigor and need. She was better at taking him down her throat now but back then, she would choke quite harshly, spit dripping down her lips and tears to brew in her eyes when the blunt head of his large length hit the back of her pliant throat. 

"Well, I want to return the favor. Will you let me, princess?" his voice seemed to echo in her blood rushing ears, heart rate picking up to the point it felt she had been submerged in lava. The way Harry's voice was low, husky, full of all that hunger and lust for her, she just needed him. Screw the Prefect ceramony, screw what her father said, screw all of it "God-yes please Harry," she could feel his grin being pressed into the pulse point of her throat, as he set her down onto the couch, laying down lengthwise on the couch and pulling off his glasses, handing them to her "Climb up when you're ready," 

Merlin, if Draco's face wasn't already flushed up, it sure as hell was now. She felt damp everywhere, but it resonated the most at her cunt, harshly gushing for Harry. She was addicted to this guy, his smell, demeanor, how bloody handsome he was. Everything was just magnetizing, her mouth was dripping saliva in an hungered drool, which made her have to clean with her sleeve.

She pulled her suit jacket off, draping it on the other side of the couch, her green wedges to come off next before slinking off her tights, the cool air of the room making her feel exposed. It was reassuring to have Harry's circle framed glasses, knowing he couldn't see her slight embarrassment. Finally, she pulled off the soaked underwear, letting out a sigh of relief before setting it aside and going towards her lover. The way he laid was mesmerizing, eyes closed, a relaxed, dorky smile on his lips as shallow breaths left him. She could see his erection pushing at his black trousers, desperate and eager for touch just as he was to give her contact. 

Slowly, her hand pets a path across his face, watching how Harry cocked his head to lean into the soft touch of her silk hand, humming quietly against her palm while she couldn't help but release a giggle. His hands felt down her arms to track the path back to her hips, holding them and feeling the now exposed flesh "Ready?" he asked, eyes still closed to give Draco the sense of sweet comfort "Yes," her reply came out a bit rushed, almost a drunken slur of need for anything he could give her. With the ease of his strength, she was picked up, carefully lead up the contorts of his chest before being set down just above his lips and chin. Her knees settled at the sides of his head for support, biting her lower lip as she looked down at him. With a slow movement, she allowed her knees to start to give away the support, and soon enough she was resting her folds against his lips. 

Immediately, there was a sharp sensitivity that kicked the air from her lungs, leaving her breathless. That damned stubble above and below his lips, along with the growing sideburns. It was cradling and massaging each part of the overly sensitive skin, making a weird pleasure course her body in some animalistic need as a mewl dropped from her lips. Quickly, she covered her mouth one of her hands, eyes squeezed tight because she hadn't expected that. It didn't help that Draco was stripped of any hair of the sort, anything her body did grow in extremities was removed via laser hair removal, leaving her to feel as soft as porcelain, making the rough sensation of Harry's grown hair ten times more sexually inducing "Y-You absolute wa-ah~nker, y-you planned this," she mumbled to him. She just knew he did. Last time he did to her with his stubble, she had come twice, just because he would rub his face along the sides of her womanhood in slow motions, grinning like the devil up at her while teasing her sensitivity. 

He opened his eyes, the enticing green giving a cocky look that spelled that he totally had before his calloused hands roamed her body. His arms coiled like pythons around her thighs, pressing the Malfoy's lithe form down and against his mouth as though he only wanted to breathe her, taste her, and be practically suffocated by sweet thighs and warmth. With bulky arms holding her safely in place, his mouth opened and allowed all her sexually charged slick to drip into his mouth. He made the most obscene groans and sounds of delight, his tongue doing wonders by licking stripes across the skin and even pushing against her entrance, making her wish that he could just shove himself into her until she couldn't breathe, be practically impaled on him, his cock, his tongue, or even fingers, just have it be _Harry_ for Christ sake. 

The heiress was reduced to a slew of moaning, her hand still covering her mouth to the best of her abilities. She couldn't be too loud, even if she wanted to scream his name to the heavens or let everyone on this damned train car know she was getting eaten out by Harry Potter. It was mainly because of the conductor still outside of her room, that was surely going to report back to Lucius if he heard any suspicious sounds or god forbid walk in to inspect. Hell no did she want someone seeing her like this, only Harry got that luxury, and even that was minimal. 

It got to the point she had pushed her fingers into her mouth, in some form of makeshift gag to silence the mewls that billowed. She cursed Potters tongue for being so skilled, so perfect pressing and cradling the inner depths of her pink folds, how his tongue traced perfect circles along her clit that each sent an individual harsh shock up her spine to make it almost feel like jello. Or even the way he pushed it inside, working slow with her known sensitivity, just massaging what it could reach before slowly reeling back to touch more of the outer extremities. Despite her hips being pressed down so snuggly, the heiress couldn't help but work them forward helplessly, rutting against his lips in a needy spectacle for more, so much more. 

Harry's groan of approval to the sensation of Draco's helpless rutting into his face almost had her cumming, but by some miracle, she held it back. Her other hand coiled into his hair to grip and tug at, just as she was aware he enjoyed, and the way Harry's eyes rolled back into his head, looking overwhelmed with such pleasing sensations, was what really did it for her, unable to resist any longer. She gagged down on her fingers a practical squeal from it all, her vision turning white for such a surreal, perfect moment as the coil in her body seemed to fall apart. He responded well with blissful hums and groans, still working his tongue across her steadily to help the refined heiress out of her high. 

Draco was panting helplessly at the end, and it was Potter who had to slowly help her back down to rest on his chest as he cleaned his wet mouth of drool and come with the back of his hand before slowly getting up, Draco wobbling as she worked to get her clothes back on. It took a little longer to put on than it did off from how tingly her body felt, but soon enough they were back on. She looked over to Harry and grabbed his glasses, carefully sliding them back on his face with a small smile. He blinked a few times to adjust to actually seeing, before he returned the look with his goofy, lopsided grin, pressing a kiss to her cheek and pulling her into his lap to cuddle into. 

"Do you need me to help you?" she asked, looking up at him while running her hand along the small bits of stubble. He shook his head, which actually made her worry a bit. Was she not good? Did he not get turned on at all? He pressed more kisses along her face "Don't need it. Watching you get off is enough for me to be all set." she scoffed, lightly tapping his shoulder "Harry, that's your school uniform, not a cum rag!" 

He chuckled, giving off a happy sigh as he rested his chin against her head "There's my Draco," he mused, rough fingers running along her hips as he relaxed. She softened from there, her lovable lug of a boyfriend soothing her into a relaxed state. 

The rest of the train ride went on steady, with the couple talking, kissing, and cuddling plenty to last the entire next few months of Hogwarts. It was warm and comforting between them, and for most of the ride, Draco had her face in the collar of Harry's shirt while he played with her curled platinum hair, relishing in the musky scent that he walked around in. The smell was home, reassurance, and safety, any moment she could relish it, she knew she was exactly where she needed to be.

He was all earthy and warm, seeming like a fireplace in the middle of a snowstorm, burning embers and rich firewood to crackle throughout the night. She was sure by now her outfit would need to be adjusted in the school's bathroom with her good friend, Pansy to help her out. Pansy was a black-haired Slytherin, the same age as Draco. She was a transfer from a while ago, coming from another boarding school in Europe before coming to the UK in their second year. She gave Draco plenty of advice, and was her right-hand woman through any debacle, definitely smarter than Crabb and Goyle. 

Soon enough, the train came to a steady halt, with the intercome giving directions for passengers to grab their things and get on the platform with their year. Slowly, the couple parted, and Harry reached up into the overhang whilst Draco touched up parts of her make up with powder and lipstick. He managed to get down the hefty, large bag with an audible thud and kept it steady with one hand while taking his girlfriends with the other. 

Just as the two were going to share a few more affections before walking out, the door had swung open, and in came the proud conductor. His head was held up high, and arms swung about as he jeered "Alright madam Malfoy, let's get your things and-... And.." he paused, staring flabbergasted at the sight of Harry. The male had paled significantly, struggling to process the messy raven-haired male's presence. He cleared his throat "I.. I thought your father said you can't have anyone in here with you, madam Malfoy." he said with an awkward chuckle, sweat starting to bead down his forehead. He knew that Lucius would not be pleased. 

"Well yes, he hadn't. But, I just can't help myself when it comes to seeing my darling girlfriend," Harry stated, holding his shorter lover to his side with a refined, hearty grin "Thanks for opening the door for us, we'll be out of your hair now. Come along, princess." 

And that was that they left the frozen conductor and went out of the posh, leather filled space that Lucius had designed. They got to see some of the actual, quaint parts of the train, that came in smooth velvet and reds and greens rather than black. Things felt brighter, and as she saw Harry's and her friends, there was a warmth that filled her heart. 

This was going to be a good year afterall. 


End file.
